


Anywhere (You Want Me)

by ssironstrange



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), IronStrange - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Flirting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, he barely has to try tbh, sneaky public tho, specifically making out in a supply closet like horny teenagers, stephen being a flirt with literally everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssironstrange/pseuds/ssironstrange
Summary: Tony decides to make things official between he and Stephen during a gala held in the Avenger's honor. During the main event, the sexy ballet "Sylvia", Tony can't quite keep his hands to himself. Stephen is right beside him, and their box suite offers just enough privacy...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aprettystrangeao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprettystrangeao3/gifts).



> [This](https://i.imgur.com/eI64NWV.jpg) is the opera house they're in, and their seats specifically.  
> Thanks for the donation, Mischief! Hope you like it!

Someday, alien threats were going to learn that Earth was not an easy target. Perhaps hoping defenses were weakened from Thanos hardly a year ago, a rogue Kree force attempted an invasion with their touchdown directly over Budapest. Earth’s mightiest awaited them there while the Galaxy’s self-proclaimed guardians took care of the backup still waiting in orbit. It was perhaps one of the quickest of their battles, over almost before it even began. The Kree had been arrogant, thinking they could actually make trouble with so few numbers amongst them. The few that survived were taken as prisoners, which, as Thor explained, was far worse for them than death. They were a proud people who didn’t take defeat lightly.   
“Even better,” Tony had said, and not a single one of them disagreed.

* * *

Barely a week later, the entire city of Budapest decided to honor them with a small gala featuring the best of everything they had to offer. The top chefs for their food, the country’s finest wines, the Hungarian National Ballet with the Budapest Philharmonic for entertainment, all hosted in one of the country’s oldest opera houses. It was all a bit much, but accepting such generosity was all a part of the PR game they often played. Not that it ever stopped them from enjoying any of it.

Tony Stark cared to go for one reason and one reason only; Stephen Strange.

It was going on a month since their last date and unfortunately the multiverse didn’t stop simply because it was an inconvenience to their romantic interests. Tony was itching to spend time with him outside of fighting off a freakishly strong race of blue aliens. And, that aside, he had hand picked Stephen’s tuxedo and had it delivered to him at the Sanctum and was absolutely dying to see it on him.

Tony, Rogers, Natasha, Clint, Banner, Bucky, Sam, Rhodes, and Scott had all ridden the same private jet which had been more akin to a party bus for the majority of the trip. Thor and Loki arrived by the dramatics of the bifrost. Peter decided it was best to stay home and keep the city in check with the help of the Defenders. T’Challa, and of course his general Okoye came in by a Wakandan aircraft, and the Guardians had opted out with other galactic matters to take care of. It was a damn fine looking group of people making entrances, but Tony was feeling the absence of one person in particular.

Stephen was nowhere to be found yet.

Tony was nothing if not a master procrastinator, and busied himself mingling amongst teammates and state officials until the sorcerer arrived fashionably late. It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to abandon his conversation and run straight to him. For a brief moment their eyes met, but Stephen’s attention was pulled away with a jovial greeting from Steve, flirting from Natasha, and giddy friendliness from Scott who, if Tony had been reading him right, seemed to have a particular fondness for him.

Rhodey gave a couple of light pats to Tony’s cheek and snapped his attention back to him and the four others he had completely tuned out.

“If you stared any harder your eyeballs would probably fall out,” Rhodey chided with a sigh.

“Just admiring money well spent,” Tony smirked and took a drink from the bubbly champagne. “That was terribly rude of me, I’m sorry. You were explaining the ballet?” 

Yet, even as their hosts went on to explain it a second time, Tony still couldn’t quite bring himself to pay much attention. His thoughts were focused on one very tall drink of handsome.

* * *

Stephen balked at the  _ white _ tuxedo that had been delivered, yet once he finished actually dressing himself in the ensemble(and grateful for Wong’s help in that endeavor), he had to admit he cut a damn nice image. The silk jacket was slim fit and hugged his form snugly but still offered enough freedom to move comfortably. It was subtle, but as he moved the light played with the sheen of the silk. Peaked lapels were black, as were the pocket covers and lining of the breast pocket. Beneath the jacket, a simple black waistcoat, and beneath that a white dress shirt, pleated across the chest, and a slender black silk tie to complete it. Stephen took a step back and turned to look over his shoulder at the back, admiring just how perfectly it had been tailored. Tony must have had his measurements saved from the last time he’d been fitted. The jacket was lifted just enough to get a look at how the black dress pants fit and, sure enough, they were made  _ precisely _ for his ass. Italian leather oxfords were last, polished to a remarkable shine. Stark simply didn’t know how to do simple and subtle, but Stephen wasn’t exactly complaining. He’d never looked this good even when he was comfortably wealthy.

He tugged the cuffs of his sleeves down, slipped on the sling ring, and walked up the steps of the historic opera house while leaving valets to gape behind him.

With doors opened for him, he offered his thanks and strolled in with the soft click of oxford’s heels. Tony was located instantly and held his gaze while his heart held out on a beat or two. Almost immediately, Stephen was ambushed by Captain America looking dapper in the traditional black and white tuxedo. Apparently, Rogers didn’t think he even owned anything other than his usual sorcerer’s robes. _ Oh, if only you knew _ , Stephen thought with a bit of a sheepish smile and quiet laughter as Natasha flirted with every other word, her strapless black gown barely managing to cling to the abundant cleavage. Scott was filled with such abundant energy, even now, sometimes Stephen thought the man might just burst like a balloon filled with confetti from it all. As Stephen paid him a compliment about the deep green tux bringing out the green of his eyes, Scott burst out into a radiant smile, blushed, then stumbled over his own words as he made an awkward excuse to all but  _ run _ in the direction of the open bar. Honestly, a grown man had no right to be as adorable as Scott managed to be and it amused Stephen endlessly. Shaking fingers plucked a champagne flute from the tray of a waiter who paused to offer, then Stephen gradually drifted away from the majority of the others gathered, off towards a table offering a spread of various vegetables that was practically ignored. Technically, Stephen wasn’t an Avenger like the rest of them. He helped when they needed it, consulted on mystical artifacts, and was their go-to expert for anything within the realm of magic, but he was not a part of their team, and thus didn’t quite have the comfortable comradery they had amongst each other. That, however, was fine with Stephen. He’d never been a social butterfly.

Barnes and Banner weren’t either if he had to take a guess by how they lingered nearby him on the peripheral of the gathering.

“I’m surprised you aren’t with Thor and Loki,” Stephen mentioned his way, pale eyes sweeping towards the brothers in their Asgardian finest. Thor was telling a story as boisterous and dramatic as possible while Loki did his best to look utterly annoyed but was betrayed by the subtle smirks of amusement as he listened. Bruce spared them a glance with a small smile.

“Maybe afterwords. Thor makes the other guy a little too excitable when he’s loud like that. And I’m pretty sure Loki has about six different ways he plans to stab me if I get close enough. So…” He shrugged.

“Why is he even allowed here?” Barnes asked quietly while fidgeting uncomfortably in his own tux similarly styled to Steve’s.

“Same reason you are,” Bruce’s words had a sharp edge to them, and the look he cast the former assassin was even sharper.

Stephen’s lips twitched in a fraction of a frown as Bucky visibly recoiled. Taking a sip from the champagne, he closed the distance between the two of them, leaving Bruce by himself for the time being.

“I’ve been wanting to get a look at your arm in person, would you mind?” Bucky stared at him for a few seconds, clearly confused for a number of reasons, but he slowly offered the metal hand. Stephen handed the champagne over to his other hand, then both of his took gentle hold of the vibranium prosthetic. Much as he would have enjoyed to see the whole arm, he was satisfied with just the hand and turned it over into his own, testing the flexibility of his fingers and range of motion in the wrist. “I would have given nearly anything to do the surgery for one of these,” Stephen murmured to himself, trembling fingers brushing against the metal palm. “Have they managed to implement sensory input?” When silvery-green eyes raised to Bucky’s face, he found the man still staring at him but with a hint of color rising to his cheeks.

“Uh, yeah. Not everything, but, uh, yeah. I can feel that.” He swallowed thickly and finally managed to tear his eyes away from his face and down to Stephen’s hand against the metal where his scarred digits traced the decorative gold lines.

“Incredible.” Stephen whispered, then gave his hand a pat before letting it go and taking his glass back. “I would love to look over the whole thing one of these days, if you would permit me to indulge my Doctor’s curiosity.”

Bucky felt like he was trying to swallow down a wad of cotton and nodded slowly. The wink that followed from Stephen had him wishing more than anything Steve wasn’t preoccupied chatting it up with dignitaries so he could at least pretend to have something important to discuss with him.

Having excused himself from the conversation, Tony watched from across the room as Bucky lost all composure from Stephen’s inspection of the prosthetic and kindness of his words. Christ, he managed to turn two grown men to flustered, blushing messes within ten minutes of each other. Tony grinned and emptied his glass, leaving it on a table to be picked up by the staff milling around. It was time to get the sorcerer under control before he had everyone questioning their sexuality or gave poor Barnes a heart attack.

* * *

“Stephen is about to send Bucky into a gay panic attack,” Tony interrupted Steve in the middle of his conversation about the accords with someone he couldn’t care to remember. “Better go save your boyfriend.”

Steve rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, then politely excused himself. “How many times do I have to tell you it isn’t like that? Not my fault you haven’t ever had a fri — oh,” Those bright blues finally looked over to the scene of Bucky blushing bright enough to make out across the room, grinning like an idiot, and fidgeting as though he’d forgotten every bit of his training of hiding emotions. “Wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“Yeeep. Come on, let’s go reign in our men.”

“He’s  _ not _ my boyfriend, Tony.”

“Yet.” Tony said beneath his breath while turning away from him and strolling towards Stephen, Steve following close behind.

* * *

With Barnes, grateful for Steve’s intervention, finally out of the way and Bruce having apparently decided that the Asgardians were better company than the two flirts, Stephen and Tony finally had a moment alone.

Stephen took a good look over Tony’s tuxedo and found himself grinning a little at how much of a contrast it was to his own. The billionaire for once went simple and clean; black on black with the only pop of color being the deep indigo pocket square patterned with white polka-dots. His jacket was cotton, the lapels satin, and his tie shiny black silk against the matte black dress shirt. Honestly it didn’t matter what he wore, Stark always made it look good. Reaching out, Stephen adjusted Tony’s tie from its crooked position and smoothed it down against his chest with a bit of a smirk. Of course he would show up to a prestigious event like this with a crooked tie.

“I’m surprised Pepper let you out of her sight looking anything but perfect.”

“Are you implying I’m not?”

Stephen’s smirk turned into a grin. “Hmm, the left side of your goatee is about a centimeter too wide. So, yeah, that is exactly what I’m implying.”

“Oh please,” Tony grabbed Stephen’s chin, thumb smoothing down over the stiff hairs. “You’re one to talk, look at this sloppy shit. What’s even going on here?”

“ _ You _ try shaving with even half this precision with hands like these, dick.”

“I’ve seen you steady your hands with magic before, dipshit.” His hand glided along Stephen’s jaw, caressed him beneath the ear and let his fingers slide into his hair.

“It takes more energy than shaving is worth.” Stephen’s grin softened and he leaned his head into Tony’s hand with a quiet sigh. He didn’t even realize how severely he missed his small touches until now.

And then Tony leaned up and kissed him, bringing every thought to an abrupt and jarring halt.

After the initial shock, Stephen took a brief look around and only found a few people actually paying attention to them, then returned his gaze to Tony who merely grinned at him mischievously. It wasn’t any secret, this not-quite-a-relationship, but Tony had thusfar avoided bringing it to the public’s attention. Until now, apparently.

Tony lowered his hand from its hold on Stephen and he pulled his cuff back to glance at the time on a simple black Rolex with bold white numbers and dots between. It blended well with his tux.

“They’ll be seating us soon, why don — oh, we’re going this way now, okay.”

Stephen grabbed his wrist and dragged him around a corner towards a hallway and ducked into the first door, yanking Tony into the cramped space of what looked to be a supply closet filled with extra folding chairs and tables, towels, cleaning supplies, decorations — a bit of everything it seemed. The lighting was a single low wattage bulb that was clearly a second thought in the design of the closet. Tony snickered softly, leaning back a few inches into a shelving unit.

“Now  _ this _ takes me back to MIT, sneaking off between classes to — mmm…” Stephen cut him off with a kiss full of heat and hunger that Tony opened himself to gladly. He pulled back and lingered a few inches away from the mouth still parted and waiting for his own, pale celadon gaze flitting between Tony’s lips and the dark brown of old, well-loved cellos in his eyes. Breaths were held trapped in their lungs for a heartbeat and a half that felt stretched into ten, and the absence of noise wrapped around them like a heavy blanket. Tony watched him and wondered what might have been going on in his brilliant brain. Stephen inched back in and brushed his lips once against Tony’s with the gentleness of down feathers, then again with a fraction more pressure. Tony freed the air from his chest in a hot rush that met Stephen’s own which followed a second after, and then their mouths collided like ocean waves crashing against cliffsides. Hands grabbed and squeezed and caressed; Tony’s along Stephen’s shoulders and biceps, and Stephen’s against Tony’s face and neck. Dizzying gasps between the parting of slotted mouths and the small, wet sounds of lips smacking and sucking each other filled the quiet space around them — nearly deafening in their own ears. They kissed and kissed and  _ kissed _ as though they were starved and the other’s lips were the only thing to devour.

Only a voice faint over the intercoms out in the lobby brought them to an eventual halt, alerting everyone to be seated.

With cheeky smiles, they slipped out of the small room and Stephen adjusted the collar of Tony’s shirt beneath the tux jacket while Tony straightened the lapels of Stephen’s.

“You good?” Stephen asked as Tony continued to fidget with his cuffs.

“Yeah, I just, uh, need a minute. Go on, I’ll meet you there.”

Stephen’s eyes ventured further down and he smirked at the rise against Tony’s pants. Probably not noticeable at a distance thanks to how concealing black tended to be, but he wouldn’t have risked it either. Thankfully his own arousal had been a little slower coming to life and there was enough give in the slacks to hide the beginnings of an erection.

“You are entirely too easily excited for a man of your age.” Stephen turned away to start around the corner, but a hard smack to his ass had him stumbling forward for the first step and he glared with playful sharpness over his shoulder.

* * *

“So, was that just to show off or are you finally going to call this official?” Stephen asked as Tony seated himself in the plush, red velvet seat directly beside his own in their private box suite. “Or were you getting jealous?”

“Yes.” Tony unbuttoned his jacket and adjusted himself in his seat with giddy energy.

“To which one?”

Tony leaned into Stephen’s space and reached over to pull him down by the back of his neck. “All of the above.” He murmured against lips that were still just slightly swollen and took them once more into a series of longing kisses that had Stephen considering skipping out on this whole affair and going straight to Tony’s bedroom.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Lights had dimmed, then went out entirely except for the few emergency exits and, of course, the stage where ballerinas skirted across with airy grace to the music of the orchestra in the pit just below it. Tony’s hand settled on Stephen’s thigh and Stephen had one of those long arms resting along the back of his seat where he could feel the _ tap tap tap _ of his fingers along with the melody of the music on occasion. Even if Stephen weren’t one big distraction, Tony wouldn’t have kept his attention on the performance below anyway. Ballet was not exactly his area of interest. For a while he feigned interest, keeping head and eyes forward when really he was only paying attention to the man beside him from the very edges of his vision. Tony watched for his reactions as his hand crept oh so slowly up his thigh centimeter by centimeter, but it wasn’t until his fingers brushed over the bump of a half-hard cock that he was rewarded with Stephen taking a deep breath in and a slight shift in his seat.

“I’m not the only one who’s easily excited,” Tony said quiet and low as he leaned in and gripped the trouser-bound bulge.

With a hard swallow, Tony watched the Adam’s apple of his throat bob and even through the layers of the tuxedo he could make out how his entire body stiffened with the paranoia written across his face. Pale eyes that nearly glowed with the reflection of the stage’s lights darted around, and once he figured just how difficult it would be for anyone to actually spy what was happening he relaxed again, sagging into the back of his seat with a quiet sigh and an amused laugh from Tony at his side.

Light pressure was applied beneath his palm as it dragged along the growing, hardening length. Stephen was trying to keep his attention on the dancers, apparently determined not to give in to Tony’s shenanigans. Though his eyes followed their movements, his thoughts were anywhere but with the story they were trying to tell.

By the end of the first act, Tony’s languid strokes had him squirming in his seat trying to press against his hand with lips parted for heavier breaths. Curtains opened for the second act and Stephen’s heart shot into his throat as Tony leaned in to use both hands to unfasten the buttons and zipper of his slacks. What little paranoia had lingered now exploded and sent adrenaline surging through his veins. His arm dropped from the back of Tony’s seat and a jittery hand grabbed the wrist of a hand starting to dive into the opened pants.

“Are you fucking insane?” Stephen hissed. “Someone could  _ see us _ .”

“Pretty sure Steve is the only one with sharp enough vision and he’s below us.” Tony grinned as his wrist was released. Fingers slipped beneath the elastic band of snug briefs and closed around smooth, rigid flesh. Gently, he tugged it out along with his balls, letting them drape over the band. Despite the darkness, Tony could make out the bright flush on Stephen’s cheeks as he glanced down at himself fully exposed in Tony’s grasp.  _ Fuck _ it was hot. Both hands raised and rubbed over his face as he surrendered to the haze of arousal already clouding his thoughts.

Tony took his sweet time simply admiring everything about the situation and wished more than anything he had a pair of his shades with FRIDAY integrated to take a picture. Since he didn’t, he took in every little detail to commit to memory from the redness coloring Stephen’s face, the increase in breathing, to the pulse he could feel throbbing against his fingers that were wrapped around the generously long shaft. Of all the men he had been with in his life, Stephen definitely took the record for longest dick. He would say 7 ½ inches, but Tony was almost certain it was closer to 8. The girth was pretty average, making it, like everything else about Stephen, long and slender. His hand glided up from the slightly thicker base, following the gentle, smooth upward curve it took, thumb pressing lightly against the pronounced and spongy ridge along the bottom. Passing over the scar of circumcision, he lingered and took note of the subtle change in texture and color; it was just a hair softer than the surrounding skin and, though hard to judge in the dark, maybe a shade or two more red. And, the lucky bastard, it was a far shorter scar than his own and many of the men he’d known before. His palm passed over the head and twisted slow and gentle, spreading the gathering pre against the glans and causing Stephen to take a quick, sharp breath in through his nose. Gliding back down, Tony’s fingers traced the paths of the few veins that pulsated softly with the beat of his heart. The larger dorsal vein that started a little to the left and snaked along the top, then the artery on the right side and smaller vessels underneath, all of them giving him  _ just enough _ texture, exactly how Tony liked it. Finally he dropped down to cup his balls, heavy in his palm and somewhat loose from the body heat they had been trapped against. If he had to guess, they were probably a bit on the larger side. What he knew for sure, though, was how much he loved the sound and feeling of those balls slapping against his ass when Stephen plowed into him.

While the one hand continued its lazy strokes, Tony’s other ventured up to the tie’s knot just below Stephen’s throat and began loosening it, pulling it out enough to get to the buttons beneath it. Those were pushed through their holes and Tony tugged his collar open enough to nuzzle his face into it where kisses were spread and the whiskers of his goatee scratched and tickled. Stephen let his head fall back against the seat and Tony felt the groan vibrate in his throat, its noise masked beneath the volume of the orchestra.

“God, you drive me crazy, Stephen.” Tony whispered directly against his ear and kissed beneath it. Done with its teasing explorations, his fingers gripped Stephen’s cock properly and began a steady rhythm of strokes. 

Tony barely heard the whine. 

“I just,” He kissed against his jaw. “can’t seem,” another kiss, lower on his neck. “to help myself,” and then he bit down against the pale column hard enough to leave indentions of his teeth, but gentle enough that they wouldn’t last longer than a few seconds. 

Stephen bit down against his lower lip to muffle a moan. One of his hands dropped down to grip the edge of his seat rather hard and the other couldn’t quite decide where it wanted to be; either in Tony’s hair or holding the back of his chair. Another bite, lower on his neck, pulled yet another low groan out of him but the jump in speed of his hand turned it higher pitched and loud enough to be heard over the music. Stephen’s breaths were coming in rapidly and uneven, his hand white-knuckling the edge of his seat. He turned his head in towards Tony to bury his face into his hair where he could muffle himself in his struggle to keep quiet. Pleasure was ramping up quickly with every little adjustment Tony’s hand made. Moving faster, applying more pressure, twisting and squeezing over the head more often which resulted in a few deliciously slick strokes from the steady flow of pre. Stephen was fast approaching that peak just before orgasm and all he could do was whimper and moan gibberish into the soft brunette head still kissing and biting at his neck.

“Pardon me, Mr. Stark, Dr. Strange,” The unfamiliar voice and sudden sliver of light damn near had Stephen jump out of his very skin and he fumbled an attempt to shove his cock back down into his pants, but Tony  _ wouldn’t let go. _ “Is there anything you need before the next act begins?” The usher asked courteously. 

Tony grinned wickedly at Stephen. No, he didn’t let go, and in fact kept his hand moving slowly. It might have looked a bit suspicious, but everything was hidden from the usher’s view by their chairs.

“No, but thank you.” Tony turned just enough to look at the usher and flashed one of his classic Stark smiles. The young man nodded and stepped out behind the curtain that closed their suite off from the hallway, darkness falling over them again.

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Stephen breathed out.

“I know, right?” Tony’s grin never faded. “I didn’t even realize the second act was over.”

* * *

 

Thanks to Tony refusing to let go and rubbing against him instead, Stephen didn’t quite lose all of the progress that had been made.

Dancers continued to leap and twirl across the stage, spotlights following the leads, the orchestra filling the chambers with beautiful, moving music. Stephen had given up trying to pay attention to it at all. His left hand, closest to Tony, clutched his meaty thigh with fingers digging in hard. The right was clasped over his own mouth after a few too-loud moans that were only going to get worse with Tony’s strong hands working his prick with expert precision. Below, the music was starting to grow more dramatic as the climax of whatever the story was neared and Stephen was held on the edge of his own.

Tony plucked the pocket square from his breast pocket and gave the silk a flick to unfold. Fingers adjusted their grip against against Stephen’s cock to ensure each spot he enjoyed most was hit with every stroke. Whether or not Tony timed it to fall in with the next crescendo of the music, Stephen couldn’t be bothered to try and figure out. He was just glad for it—even muffling his own mouth couldn’t quite stop the volume of the mixture of  _ groan-whine-moan _ that accompanied the orgasm.

Trembling fingers ached from the strength behind them biting against Tony’s thigh, the tip of each digit bleached white. A beat too slow, Tony ended up with a couple of warm splatters of cum against the side of his hand and wrist before the silken square was there to catch the rest. After balling it up, he raised his hand up to his lips to lick up those spilled drops—making sure to hold Stephen’s gaze as he did so— then tossed the silk into the small bin tucked into the corner of their balcony suite near his feet as if it were garbage and not a few hundred dollars of fabric.

 

After a few heaving breaths, Stephen managed to regain  _ some _ of his composure and tucked his cock back into hiding within the briefs. That might have been that, except for the pure arrogance plastered all over Tony’s face as he watched Stephen try to collect himself again. It simply would not do.

Stephen let the elastic band of his underwear snap as his hand withdrew and he looked at Tony with something that unsettled the suave billionaire something fierce. There was danger in those pale eyes, something that had red flags springing up and his heart quickening like a rabbit’s hiding in the thicket from a hungry fox. Plush, rose petal lips—that were  _ so damn kissable _ —spread into a slow, wide, cheshire grin and in that moment Tony knew he was done for. The hand on his thigh, now shaking even harder than usual, tugged and pulled his shirt out from his pants and his other hand abandoned fastening his own in favor of doing the very opposite to Tony’s. Even with all the clumsy fumbling, the speed he managed was frankly  _ unnatural _ . Tony scarcely had time to grab his arm in a feeble attempt to pull him away before one of those quivering hands plunged into his snug boxer briefs.

“The dance is almost over,” Tony whispered out hurriedly and squeezed down on his arm when he felt those long, slender fingers wrap around his achingly hard cock. “Don’t have enough ti— _ Jesusfuckingchrist! _ ”

Stephen bent over and pressed his lips against the cotton still hiding his prick from view. Hand and mouth worked in unison to tease until he felt him squirming and trying his best to keep his hips from rising. His mouth dragged along the length until he reached the sizable damp spot at the head and there he paused to simply enjoy the intoxicating scent of his precum that would have had him hard again in a heartbeat if he were maybe a decade younger. Teeth pinched the band and tugged down while his hand pulled the heavy cock up and out. Tony began to hiss a sudden breath through clenched teeth, but cut it off to bite down against his lip and stifle the groan as Stephen took him into the warmth of his mouth and sank down until he felt himself butting against the back of his throat. If not for the music slowing and getting quieter, Tony was almost positive he would have kept going until his prick was lodged firmly into it. His lack of a gag reflex would never cease to make Tony jealous. Calloused hands found their way into Stephen’s hair, weaving and threading into the carefully styled strands to grip and pull while his head started rising and falling.

Tony wasn’t exactly sure he would be able to keep himself quiet enough, and caring about that became less important with every glide and caress of his tongue and each time he sucked hard enough to pull the head of his cock against the smooth ridges on the roof of his mouth. Stephen wasn’t being particularly quiet himself with all the slurping and sucking and deep moans that vibrated deliciously. No doubt the usher outside their box could hear just about everything, perhaps even the neighboring box to the right. For Tony, however, everything else outside of Stephen and his sinful mouth ceased to exist.

Then, Stephen  _ did _ take him all the way and it was only by sheer force of will that Tony didn’t let loose a moan loud enough for the whole opera house to hear. Fingers curled into tight fists against his bobbing head and pushed him down harder, driving his cock ever deeper into the ridiculously tight space that stretched to its limits around his girth. The buildup happened so fast. Like something had snapped and suddenly he was  _ there _ . Words failed him entirely. Tony managed rapid pants and guttural moans before every muscle from his abdomen down to his curling toes tensed, breath caught in his lungs, and cock twitched between swollen lips from thick bursts of cum spilling against a welcoming tongue. A groan chased the exhale that had been held and his fingers loosened from Stephens hair, hands slipping away to fall limp at either side of the chair while his head  _ thumped _ against the back of it. Stephen carefully tucked his prick away, fastened his pants, then leaned up to press reddened lips to Tony’s. The taste of his own cum and cock was still heavy on Stephen’s mouth which only made him want more.

“You are a goddamn maniac, Stephen Strange.” Tony said with a lazy grin once their lips finally parted.

“ _ You _ started it.” Stephen countered while flopping against the back of his seat to finally zip and button himself back up. He combed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix the mess Tony had made of it, but it was a little more than beyond hope.

Music ceased, and applause exploded with the apparent ending. Tony and Stephen shared a mutual glance of shocked confusion—how the hell was it over already?—before they took to their feet to join in the ovation.

* * *

 

They didn’t escape the knowing, judging glances of their fellow team mates once back in the lobby. The state of their tuxedos, Stephen’s hair and the hickies peeking out from his collar, Tony’s missing pocket square, and the dumb grins the pair of them sported were all very clear signs of what had gone down. The majority of them simply shook their heads or rolled their eyes, but a few turned bright shades of red and pink. Namely Scott, Bucky, and Bruce. Thor simply laughed boisterously at the two of them and gave Tony a hard pat on the shoulder that jarred his entire body.

Stephen slipped his sling ring on as soon as Tony informed the others he wouldn’t be flying back with them and promptly opened up a gateway to the Sanctum through magical orange embers. Tony was all but dragged through by his tie and the last thing anyone saw before the portal spiraled shut was Tony quite literally ripping open the shirt beneath Stephen’s jacket, sending buttons flying every which direction. One escaped through the portal at the last second and pinged off of Steve’s highly shined shoe, drawing a heavy sigh from the super soldier who was certain this was only the beginning of a series of tomfoolery, and would only get worse.


End file.
